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Diary Of A Killer Kat
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TITLE (EDIT)
Diary Of A Killer Kat
DESCRIPTION
A week in the life of a Kat.
[1,263 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Humor
AUTHOR
Kathryn J Gabrielle
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
My name is Kathryn Gabrielle and I live in Allentown, PA. I have been writing since I was very young and I keep up my creative writing each and every day. I write on two online sites to practice my writing skills. I have one poem published called, "Serenade". I am a graduate of Rivier College, Nashua New Hampshire with a business degree. My hobbies are painting, writing, reading. I also love to travel.



[March 2003]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
Diary Of A Killer Kat
Kathryn J Gabrielle

MONDAY

OKAY, OKAY. So hang me. I killed the bird. For pity's sake, I'm a Cat.
It's practically my job to go creeping round the garden after sweet
little teensy-weensy birdy-pies that can hardly fly from one hedge to
another. So what am I supposed to do when one of the poor feathery
little flutterballs just about throws itself into my mouth? I mean, it
practically landed on my paws. It could have hurt me.

Okay, Okay. So I mangled it. I emphasize. Is that any reason for Ellie
to cry in my fur so hard I almost drown, and squeeze me so hard I
almost choke?

'Oh Tuffy!,' She says, all sniffles and red eyes and piles of wet
tissues. 'Oh, Tuffy. How could you do that?' How could I do that? I'm a
cat. How did I know there was going to be such a giant great fuss, with
Ellie's mother rushing off to fetch sheets of old newspaper, and
Ellie's father filling a bucket with soapy water? Okay, okay. So maybe
I shouldn't have dragged it in and left it on the carpet. And maybe the
stains won't come out, ever.

So hang me.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

TUESDAY

I QUITE ENJOYED the little funeral. I don't think they really wanted me
to come, but, after all, it's just as much my garden as theirs. In
fact, I spend a whole lot more time in it than they do. I'm the only
one in the family who uses it properly. Not that they're grateful. You
ought to hear them.

"That cat is ruining my flower beds. There are hardly any of the
petunias left."

"I'd barely planted the lobelias before it was lying on top of them,
squashing them flat."

"I do wish it wouldn't dig holes in the anemones."

Moan, moan, moan, moan. I don't know why they bother to keep a cat,
since all they ever seem to do is complain.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

WEDNESDAY

CARL IS MY OWNER and he sucks eggs. He always forgets to change my
litter box. Can you expect a classy cat like me to step in that stinky
box? It's not like he doesn't have time. He sits on his lazy ass all
day long collecting unemployment checks. Why doesn't he get a job!
Yesterday, his wife left him for the mailman. She was a great cook,
but the mailman had a better package. I'm lucky if he remembers to put
my food out once a week. No wonder I am a killer cat. Yeah, he's home
today, sitting on the front stoop drinking beer and talking to the
neighbor about absolutely nothing. He has the brain of a flea. I am the
brains and Carl is the butt end. Hey, I'm a Cat. Why the hell should I
care?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thursday

I'M POWERFUL HUNGRY! It's time. Time to jump over this joke of an
“electric fence” that Carl set up to prevent me from roaming into the
night. HA! That's a good one! Heck, I'll piss on it for laughs! My cat
friends gather around and we take turns jumping over the fence while
the ‘juice' is on. No one got zapped yet. We like to laugh at Carl, the

butthead.

Ah, I smell rabbit! It's down the street a way, so I'll take a flying
leap over this ‘electric fence'. Weeeeeeeee.... that was fun! Eat kitty
litter, Carl. There is a quarter moon tonight and I see a pair of
headlights just ahead of me. I'll hurry and hide under this new red
Mercedes.

Swooosh..........I am running down Miller Lane and the scent of rabbit
fills my nostrils. The rabbit sees me now, stands up straight, and
freezes. I pounce but miss. Rabbit and I race round and round the
block. She gives me a run for my money, but when she runs into the
recycling bin, she is mine.

Munch! Stupid critters.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

FRIDAY

ELLIE IS A SPOILED BRAT. I am sitting on the window seat and I am not
moving. Carl loves to spoil his little daughter. He is reaching in the
closet and bringing out yet another present for this little girl. Can't
buy love? Carl does. Candy and presents. Why doesn't he just go out and
get laid? What a loser!

Ellie is jumping up and down, clapping her hands. Surprise! Surprise!
How many gifts is this brat going to get? Let's see, what is it this
time? Malibu Barbie and Ken in their Malibu Mansion. How original.
Barbie and Ken are now swimming in their Malibu pool, wearing their
Malibu clothes, and jumping out of their Malibu windows. How Carl of
you to think of such a gift! Let's teach Ellie the value of elitism. I
know. Let's play Godzilla. I'll be Godzilla and this is Tokyo.

I'll pounce on the Malibu Mansion and kidnap Malibu Barbie.

I call Malibu Ken and ask for a Malibu ransom.

Gee, Sorry Ken.

Not enough money.

Munch. Munch.

Goodbye Tokyo.

Want fries with that?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

SATURDAY

OOPS! IT'S THE CAT POLICE! Can't a cat have any freedom. Carl has had to
pay big bucks to keep me here. And that joke of an ‘electric fence'
wont fence me in. Haha.. Wait, there's a knock on the door, quick, hide
under the couch while I watch Carl sweat it out with the boys in blue.

“Mr. Fritchman,” says the Cat Police Officer, “I have received several
complaints about your cat roaming the streets at night and tearing up
flower gardens and killing small animals. This is your third warning.
We are going to have to take you cat.”

“You ain't takin' nothin' from me! I paid over three grand for my brand
spankin' new electric fence and it's working, I tell you, its working!"


“No, Mr. Fritchman. It isn't working. Just look at this petition all of
your neighbors have signed. They want your cat hung out to dry.”

Carl scratches his head. “Do something, you stumphead!”, says the Cat.
“Save my hide! I don't want to be a witness at my own lynching!”

“I still say it's a case of mistaken identity.” Replies Carl to the Cat
police.

“Mistaken identity?” answers the Cat police officer. Let's take a walk,
Mr. Fritchman to take a look at your back yard."

Carl and the Cat Police Officer walk out of the back door and into the
yard. I follow closely but hide behind the kitchen curtains to watch.
Mr Cat Police has found the evidence! He is in the middle of the yard
where I have freshly dug up earth. He digs up Mr. Roma's hampsters,
rabbit remains, birds, mice, and Sandy the puppy's favorite toy.

I hang my head in shame. I'm going up the river for sure.

my last meow.......

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

SUNDAY

I DIDN'T KNOW THAT YOU could have a cat lynching on a holy day. Sunday
is a holy day. The whole neighborhood is out. Carl is crying. I have
never seen Carl cry before.

“Say something, Carl, you stupid fat man! I don't want to die! Hey, I'm
a Cat! Carl didn't feed me. Look at him. Why don't you lynch him? He is
the one that led me to this life of crime."

Nobody hears me though. I'm a cat.

As I walk the last block of my short cat life to the noose on the Dutch
Elm tree, suddenly I see a tasty rat running down the street. I spring
into action and chase after it. The whole neighborhood is chasing me.
They want me dead. I want the rat. I chase the rat blocks and blocks.

The neighbors can't catch me, I have nine lives.

I love being a Cat.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*








 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2003 Kathryn J Gabrielle
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
March 2003
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1955
 

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